


V is for Velvet

by coolbyrne



Series: The Alphabet Series [22]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29031627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack's leaving and Gibbs has one last chance. Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: The Alphabet Series [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909126
Comments: 36
Kudos: 100





	V is for Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, it was only a matter of time before I did the Airport Trope. :p

The coffee had finally gone cold, a silent indicator of how long she had waited, of how many times she had scoured the airport for a face she recognized. His face. She had stayed on the public side of the departure gate, in the hope that-

_What, Jacqueline? That he'd swoop in on his horse and declare his affection in a move that would be a complete 180 from the last 3 years? This isn't a fairy tale, you're not a princess and he's not your knight in shining armour._

Out of the habit she developed over the last hour, she looked up at the departure board and expected to see the same numbers she had seen the previous 59 times. When the line across her flight information ended with a newly declared, 'Delayed', she didn't know if it was Life kicking her when she was down or offering her an extended chance. Considering how things were going, she suspected it was the former, and wondered, despite still having a lingering hangover from the previous night's party, if she shouldn't move up from coffee to something stronger.

…..

"What are you doing here??"

Bishop announced her presence in the bullpen and Gibbs clenched his jaw.

Rather than reply, he turned it around on her. "It's Saturday. What're you doin' here?"

She came around her desk and lifted a cord. "Forgot my charger. So now can we get back to my question?" He half-assed gestures to his paperwork and she shook her head. "I don't mean _what_ are you doing here; I mean, what are you doing _here_?" Her wrist flicked out to show her the time. "Jack's flight leaves in 2 hours. Which means she has to be in Departures in an hour. It's 30 minutes to Dulles. So, why are you here?"

He tried to ignore the question and the accusation that underlied it, tried to ignore the fact his own treacherous brain had been asking himself the same question ever since he found an elephant painting leaning up against his door that morning. She mistook his lack of response as a dismissal and took three strides to his desk.

"Hey! I'm talking to you."

If he thought the glare he threw at her for her insubordination would phase her, he was mistaken when he looked up and saw a glare of her own. In an instant, he was reminded of how much she had grown over the near decade he'd known her, how that fresh-faced girl had developed into a bold woman with her own experiences in love and loss.

"What?" he asked, his voice betraying his supposed anger. It was low and sad, and she blinked first as a consoling gesture. Still, she wasn't letting him off the hook.

"Do you have any idea how much you hurt her by not showing up to the party last night? She's leaving, Gibbs."

"I know." It's not like the bottle of whiskey he brooded over in his basement did anything to make him forget.

"You know but you don't care? I don't believe that." She shook her head, though it was in equal measure conviction as it was uncertainty. "I don't want to believe that."

"What would you rather believe, Bishop?"

She held out her hands. "I'd rather believe- I don't know. That you're not cruel? That you can love someone and let them love you back? That you don't just throw people away like they didn't mean anything?"

The words cut to the quick and he said, "It's not like that."

"Isn't it? Because all I see is you sitting there and Jack's about to leave town."

His eyes stared at his monitor despite not having a damn clue what was on it. He'd had a month to get his shit together after Jack informed everyone she'd be moving back to California, the only state in the goddamn union that had doctors who could care for Faith's pregnancy. As he did then, he reminded himself it wasn't Faith's fault the pregnancy developed complications. It wasn't the kid's fault and it wasn't Jack's fault. And as for deciding whether to shit or get off the pot, he knew exactly who to blame.

She took his attempt to avoid as another dismissal. "Maybe Nick was right- maybe nothing phases you." The disappointment in her voice nearly broke him. "I hope you and your boat have a great weekend, Gibbs." As she began to walk away, he called out her name, but she simply held up a defeated hand and kept walking. 

…..

"I saw the delay on the website," Faith said over the phone. "What time do you think you'll take off?"

Jack tapped the disposable cup on the small table and sighed. "Check-in said it'll only be an hour late. I should get in around 8. You should be sleeping." Even with the delay, the time difference put the west coast in the early hours of the morning. "I can cab it to your place when I get in."

"Don't be silly, Mom. You're not landing in a new place all by yourself. I mean, it's not new, but you know what I mean."

She was right, it wasn't a new place. As Fate would have it, the best doctors in the country to handle obstetric cholestasis were in San Diego. Her old stomping grounds. It was almost as if the reboot button was being set, sending her back to the place she came from before NCIS, before Gibbs. Like none of it ever happened. Pushing down the sudden sadness, she replied, "At least go to bed until I get there. It's a 6 hour flight."

"Okay. Text me when you board."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too."

The line disconnected and she was surprised to feel a tear roll down her cheek. Torn between her daughter and the man she- ' _Loved. Go ahead and say it_ '- she knew she'd choose the former even if it broke her heart. Too much time had passed for her not to jump at the chance to spend as much as she could with Faith. Still, she wondered if it was too much to ask to have her cake and eat it, too. Quickly wiping away the tear, she closed her eyes, drew in one long deep breath and made a decision. Tossing her cup into the garbage, she grabbed her carry-on and made her way to the security gate.

…..

If he was going to be late, there would be some irony in it being due to his truck not being able to go fast enough for his liking. The truck he had held on to for over 2 decades, like so many other things he was too stubborn to change. 

When Bishop left, he was already more than halfway to convincing himself to go to the airport, but when he looked up and saw Leon looking down, his mind had been made up. It wasn't the disapproving shake of the man's head that did it- it was the thought of Leon and Jackie, and how he knew if Vance could have one more minute with his wife, he'd take it in a heartbeat. Hell, hadn't he always thought that about Shannon and Kelly? Hadn't he always said if he could only have one more moment, he'd jump at the chance? Seeing Leon standing there made him realize he _did_ have a chance, even if it was a different kind. Like he had just gotten an electric prod in his spine, he'd stood up so quickly his chair hit the wall behind him. Leaving his gun but taking his badge, he bolted out of the bullpen, asking Fate for just one damn break.

…..

Had it been anything less serious, he might've given a _'Well, that was easy'_ chuckle when he saw his curt plea had been granted. 

_Delayed_.

It was his new favourite word. Now, it was just a matter of finding her.

_Oh, is that all?_

Ignoring his brain and going with his gut, he memorized her gate and flight number and went straight for security.

…..

She tried not to get impatient with the people in front of her, but how long did it take to empty out your pockets?? She ran a hand through her hair and kicked at her bag, inching it forward as the line ambled along. There was no fear of being late, but she wished she had smuggled her badge from work, wanting nothing more than to get through the line and get on the other side of the airport. Maybe getting one more step away from what had become her home would start easing the separation. Rising up on tiptoes, she tried to estimate how much longer it might be, knowing the truth of the matter was, the farther she got, the harder she was going to feel it. At last, the line started moving.

…..

"Boarding pass."

Gibbs flipped open his badge and the guard that stood at the security entrance went from bored to focused in an instant. 

"Problems, Special Agent Gibbs?" she asked as she stepped aside.

"No," he assured her. "Just lookin' for someone. How far's Gate 22 from here?"

"About 10 minutes. You need me to have someone meet you there?"

He shook his head again. "Appreciate it, though."

"Okay." She made eye contact with the guard in the express lane and pointed to Gibbs. Catching her drift, he waved over Gibbs who thanked the woman with a grateful nod.

…..

She saw him as she came out of the bathroom, but his presence was such a shock that it took her brain a second look before it registered. He was sitting in a chair near the boarding desk, legs splayed open, hands clasped on his belt. Had she not known him better, she might have thought he looked bored, like every other person waiting to get on a plane. But she saw the movement in the blue eyes that scanned the area, a look that wasn't anxious, but wasn't at ease, either. As soon as she moved, he spotted her immediately and met her half way.

Despite practically willing him into being, her first words were, "What are you doing here?"

Rather than answer, he asked, "Got a minute?"

She looked over his shoulder at the boarding announcement. "I've got 14 of them."

"Good." He took her bag from her shoulder and slung it over his, then guided her to the next gate where the lights were dimmed and the seating empty. He gently dropped her bag to the floor but then looked like he'd run out of ideas.

Frowning, she touched his arm and asked, "What's wrong?"

It shouldn't have surprised her that he found an answer in action rather than words.

His lips were like velvet, surprisingly soft brushed across her mouth. His hands like warm cotton as they stroked along her jaw into her hair, his fingers tipped with tiny scratch pads like the fine grain sandpaper he used on his boat. His mouth so warm and inviting that she wanted to curl up in it, to forever be on the receiving end of its attention. Her hands instinctively wrapped around his waist under his big coat and she revelled in his broadness, pulling him in tighter to lean into his sturdiness. 

It was over before she knew it, even if it felt like time had stood still.

Bringing his kiss up to her temple, he whispered, "I hate goodbyes."

The honesty was palpable, the deeper meaning obvious.

"Me, too."

He pulled back, letting her see his eyes, his arbiter of truth. "I shoulda been there last night."

She shook her head. "It's okay."

"No," he disagreed. "It's not okay. Hasn't been for a while."

As much as she was finally getting a glimpse of what she had wanted, reality and her wishes were two different things. "Gibbs, I'm leaving." She saw the pain flash across his face and it broke her heart.

He seemed to allow himself the moment of vulnerability before he drew on his Marine composure. "Call me when you get settled," he said, acknowledging the fact. "Apparently, I got 97 weeks worth of vacation."

His dry delivery brought out her laugh, and in turn, drew out his smile. Then the real intent behind the words struck her. She was moving clear across the country and he'd just offered to follow, even if it was under the guise of vacation time. She brought her hand from his waist to his cheek.

"Are you sure?"

Tilting his head back and forth, he said, "Might be 95 weeks." His quip got him a light tap in return. He grinned but turned serious. "We'll figure it out." 

His conviction curled her fingers behind his ear and brought his mouth down where she could properly convey what his promise meant to her. His hands met at the small of her back and drew her in closer, offering his own silent understanding. A speaker crackled a boarding announcement, breaking through the moment.

"That's me," she whispered against his lips. 

"Yep."

Neither moved.

Her small pout turned into a smile. "Walk me to the gate."

He reached for the bag before she had the chance, and she looped her arm around his waist, enjoying the feel of his hand between her shoulder blades. It took less than 30 seconds to move from one gate to the other, and when they got to hers, they turned to each other, unwilling to let go, but unsure of what to do. She inhaled deeply, drawing in breath and courage. 

"I'm going to go now or I'll never leave."

He raised her chin with a finger and kissed her again, the anxiousness of the first kiss replaced with more certainty, more promise. She returned it with equal fervour. 

"I really -mmmm- I really have to go." The words were pressed against his lips.

"Yep."

She knew she'd have to be the one to break it off, but it felt like a temporary decision instead of a permanent one, and she found a light in the choice. Stepping back, she held out her hand and he slipped her bag from his shoulder and looped it onto hers. Holding on to the strap, he pulled her in for one last kiss.

"Don't take too long gettin' settled," he whispered.

"Your vacation time rolls back to zero if it hits 100, huh?"

He smirked. "Yeah. Somethin' like that." Glancing at the board, he jerked his chin towards the door. "Better get goin'."

"Okay." She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and made her way to the boarding line, but there was a lightness in her step that she hadn't felt in a long time. Change was such a funny thing, she thought. Both bad and good. She turned to look at one of the best in her life looking back at her with the cockiest grin she'd ever seen. She shook her head and mouthed, 'Bastard'. It only made him grin more.

…..

He watched her go not with dread but with hope, and he knew that had been in short supply in his life for a long time. He felt almost lightheaded at the prospect and it brought a grin to his face that she caught when she turned around. He could tell she mistook his expression for cockiness, and when she mouthed a playful accusation at him, he figured there was no harm in letting her think it. Still, he felt compelled to let her know he was taking it -them- seriously.

"Sloane!" 

Her head lifted from the boarding pass in her hand and she stopped just before entering the departure entrance. But seeing her face, her smile and her raised eyebrow lifted his heart into his throat. His brain came up with a thousand words when he knew three would do, but none made it to his lips. Her head tilted as she recognized his faltering for what it was- not an unwillingness to reveal his feelings, but an inability to parse them in his own Gibbsian way. Her smile lit up her face, the room and his heart.

She signed three words and winked when she saw how they caught him off-guard, not just in their meaning, but in how she said them. He watched her, mouth agape, as she disappeared behind the door.

The waiting area was empty except for him, the busy atmosphere that came with a flight now gone. He wasn't going to wait until the plane pulled away, but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave immediately. 

A boarding agent who had covertly watched their exchange pretended to gather her things before looking at him and softly asking, "You're not going?"

He shook his head. "Not this time." It was a promise for what he'd do, not a regret for what he hadn't done.

…..

-end


End file.
